


Dearly beloved.

by TayBartlett9000



Category: British Royalty RPF, Historical RPF, The Favourite (2018)
Genre: Britain, Gen, History, King - Freeform, Love, Marriage, Queen - Freeform, Royalty, Seventeenth Century, Sisters, Wedding, church
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24231031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: It is 1677 and Anne is watching Mary's wedding to William of Orange. Beside  her sits a person whom she wishes she could marry, that person  being Sarah Churchill.
Kudos: 7





	Dearly beloved.

Saint James’s palace. November 4, 1677.

“Ah, here she comes now.”

Anne sat in the front row of the chapple of Saint James’s palace, her head turning this way and that as she caught sight of the tearful bride. She was walking slowly, her own head inclined towards the alter where her husband was waiting. Anne didn’t have to stare too hard at the bride in order to see that she was still crying, the tracks of her anguished tears making their way down her cheeks and somehow serving only to exentuate the young girl’s natural beauty. Anne wasn’t entirely sure what the bride was crying about. From where nne sat, she was in a far better position than Anne was. At least she was getting married. Anne was not at all sure whether she would ever be lucky enough to get married. And all the bride could do was cry, cry as if hers was the worst luck in the world.

Anne’s stomach twisted into knots of envy. Even when crying, she managed to look beautiful. Her sister had always been the beautiful one. Anne had always been the ugly duckling, paddling behind the graceful swan that was Mary as she faught to keep up with her sister in everything she did. But thus far, Anne Stuart had never managed to succeed in her endeavour. Mary had always been older. Mary had always been the more beautiful of the two daughters of the duke of York and now, as ever, Mary had beaten Anne once again. Now she was getting married, although she didn’t look too pleased about it.

“I say,” Sarah whispered at her side, her voice choked with pent up laughter, “what a look. I certainly would not have liked to marry a woman who appeared to be so miserable. I do not envy William of Orange, let me tell you.” 

Anne struggled to maintain an expression of calm neutrality. If her father saw his younger daughter behaving in such a frivolous fashion on Mary’s wedding day, Anne knew he would be furious. But she couldn’t help it. Sarah always managed to make her laugh at even the most innapropriate times. And God knew that she needed a reason to laugh today. In any case, Sarah had made a valid point, as she always did. Mary had been crying on and off since their father had insisted she marry William, a man whom she had never met. Mary had always dreamed of marriage, as had Anne and ever since the girls had been old enough to speak their minds, they had both speculated over who they would marry once they grew up. Both had imagined that they would be pledged to wealthy princes or noblemen and Anne surmised that none of those princes or noblemen had ever included William of Orange. One glance at the man told young Anne Stuart that William of Orange was not going to be a kind hearted husband. He hadn’t been a very kind man to herself thus far. He had taken every step possible to ensure that Anne knew her place, that place being one far below himself and Mary. And as for Sarah, William of Orange hated Sarah. He had told both Anne and Mary often about his feelings for Sarah and his hatred of her best friend served only to cause Anne to hate the man even more. She hated William of Orange. She hated the man’s gust and now she was beginning to hate Mary too, hating her for refusing to stand up for her sister. Anne was sure that a bond between sisters was considerably more important than a bond between a woman and a husband that she barely knew.

“I feel sorry for your sister,” Sarah whispered at Anne’s side, drawing the young girl’s attention back to the beautiful Miss Churchill. 

A bite of impatience crept into Anne’s voice as she retorted, “why do you feel sorry for her? You know how she treats us, how she talks about you. I cannot feel sorry for her.” 

Sarah reached out and took Anne’s hand, wrapping her warm fingers around Anne’s and squeezing hard. “I feel sorry for her, beloved, because it is easy to see that Mary has become the puppit of William of Orange, dispite the fact that she in no way wishes to marry him. Your sister has always been the weak willed one, not like you, my dear. William of Orange has your sister wrapped around his little finger. I am sure that she is the perfect lady for that man.” Sarah snorted with derision. It couldn’t have been planer that a submissive woman was not at all to Sarah’s liking.

That made Anne smile. “I suppose you are right, my dear,” she said cheerfully, trying to keep her triumphant voice as low as she could, not wishing anyone to hear what they were saying, “it certainly does appear that William is making all of the decisions regarding everything that Mary does. I wonder if William will be the one in charge when Mary becomes queen?”

Sarah nodded, unconcerned. “I am sure that he will be,” she agreed in a tone that dripped with scathing dislike, “I do not think that your sister will be strong enough to rule this country without William telling her what to do. It is a shame for the country.”

“Why?” Anne asked.

“Because the people of England will be cheeted out of a great monarch while Mary rules,” Sarah said cheerfully, squeezing Anne’s hand once again, “because only you would be able to do the job of governing the kingdom, my dearest one. Not Mary and certainly not William of Orange.”

Anne felt a warm glow expanding in her stomach as Sarah’s words. Anne was glad that Sarah had come into her life. No one had been able to raise her self asteem before Sarah arrived at court. Only Sarah could make Anne smile. Only Sarah could make Anne feel better about herself. She leaned against Sarah’s warm, reassuring body and rested her head against her friend’s shoulder. “I wish I could marry you,” she said softly, wistfully. She sighed deeply as an image of Anne and Sarah’s wedding day came unbidden into her mind. “I think we would make a splendid couple. Do you not think so?” 

Sarah nodded, her long blonde hair tickling Anne’s neck. “I do,” she murmured, “we would make a wonderful couple. And just think of it, if you and I got married, we would rule the court and the kingdom together. No one would be able to keep us apart then, would they?”

Anne smiled. “That would be nice,” she said in a whisper.

She wished that she could marry the beautiful Sarah. Who wouldn’t? Sarah Churchill was the most wonderful person that Anne had ever met. But of course they were unable to get married. Such a marriage was not only illegal but a sin in the eyes of the lord. Anne couldn’t understand it. How could love between two individuals be a sin? She knew that her love for Sarah was pure and surely that was enough to make a love like theirs alright in the eyes of the lord if not the government, was it not? She sighed. She knew that she was being foolish. Anne knew that the church would not agree to a marriage between two women, no matter how much those women loved each other and she knew also that a marriage between a princess and her female lover was even less possible. Theirs was an unfair situation in an even more unpleasant world. But surely God would understand if Anne declared her love for Sarah to be pure. She cared not whether the people liked it. Sarah would like it and to Anne, that was all that mattered.

Anne looked back to the alter once again, her eyes drawn to Mary’s tearful face as she said ‘I do’ to her husband. The service was over. She was now his wedded wife. Mary still seemed to be finding it impossible to smile and finally, Anne began to recognise a feeling other than the anger she felt towards Mary. Anne felt sorry for her. Anne looked from Mary to Sarah and thought that she could in a small way understand Mary’s grief and reluctance to marry the man now standing before her. Anne thought that once she finally got married, if she ever got married, she would doubtless feel the same way. She knew that once she did get married, no matter how handsome her prince was, she would be similarly miserable. For Anne could never be happy in her marriage when she knew that the person she really loved was denied her. Mary was not marrying the man she wanted and Anne was of the opinion that no lawful marriage would be the right one for her. Anne Stuart wanted to marry Sarah Churchill. Anne Stuart loved and adored Sarah Churchill and she knew that Sarah loved her. Looking back at the alter once again, Anne tried her best to lose herself in the images of her own impossible wedding with Sarah. In her mind, Anne wore white, the colour of sacred innocence and beside her, Sarah too would be wearing white. They would profess their love for each other as they walkd down the isle. Theirs would be a marriage of love. A marriage of true love, most unlike the marriage between her sister and William of Orange. ‘If only,’ Anne thought wistfully, ‘if only.’ 


End file.
